Fucking Peasants, Oh My God
by Vampire Catfish1
Summary: Feliks is a young nobleman training to take over his fathers position as Lord of the realm. But there's one thing he hates more than anything – peasants. Follow him as he goes about his daily life with his mentor, Toris as he has to deal with all the peasantry in his life. AU. Extreme CRACK ahead (More info inside) (Rated T for the language)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Okay, so...there is a page on facebook called 'fucking peasants omg' and I was basically drunk and thought this would be a hilarious idea. Woke up the next morning, had 2,000 words and it wasn't actually that bad (for drunk writing at least), so, against all better judgement, I went ahead with it.  
I originally uploaded it on my account I use for Rps I want to turn into fanfics, but it did kinda well over there, so I'm deleting it from that account and uploading it here.  
The original character was England, as he seemed more suited for a nobleman role, but I didn't see a way to fit his tsundere personality into this character, and Prussia, but I think he would be more focused on being awesome than peasants, so I decided to go with Poland instead.  
Warning: there will probably be major historical inaccuracy, major OOCyness (possible PolXLiet if I decide to continue this)

...xXx...

Feliks crossed his legs and sighed in boredom as he looked out across the land from his carriage. His father told him he needed to go out and observe the people they governed so that he would become a better lord when the time came, but they hadn't even reached the farms and he was already bored.

The surrounding area was completely flat on both sides of the bumpy road, with fields stretching out for miles and various animals grazing. His father said that it was almost harvest time, and they needed to perform some stupid ritual to bless the land, but he didn't really care about that.

"Now, son, I know this may be hard for you to understand, but - " He blocked his father out as the first sign of people came into view.  
They were lined up in rows, dressed in the most boring colours and hacking away at the corn like total psychos. "That's, like, an _actual_ fucking peasant, oh my God." He couldn't believe how grubby they were - totally covered in mud and whatever. Did they not, like, bathe or something? It was totally gross.

Each field they passed revealed more and peasants. There were hundreds of them. It was like the land had an endless supply of peasants or something.

"Lol, look at that fucking peasant toiling in those fields for my turnips. He wishes he had this much swag."

"Feliks!" Toris, his tutor, glared at him from the other side of the carriage. Toris had this stupid theory that peasants were actually people too, and demanded some kind of respect. Feliks had laughed at that. As if peasants actually had feelings.

They had stopped in the square of a local town; a tiny place build from what looked like crappy bricks and hay. Apart the local well, that wasn't even a fountain or anything, and the stocks, the entire square was just cobbles, boarded off by either houses or shops. His father stood outside the carriage, addressing the local peasants while Feliks and Toris sat inside, waiting for him to finish.

Feliks stared out the right side of the carriage, bored already and waiting for his father, when he saw a leper approaching the carriage. "Please." He rasped, his arms outstretched. Almost all his fingers had fallen off, his skin was rotting away and he gave off a foul stench. "Help me." Feliks wrinkled his nose from the carriage window above, glad that he was too high (and that the leper didn't have enough fingers left) for the leper to reach him.

"Oh my God, what the fuck? Gross. Leper, don't get your germs on me, ew. Why the fuck would you approach a nobleman like myself?"  
Toris just sighed and slid the red velvet curtain over the window, blocking out the leper. Feliks looked out the other side of the carriage to where his father was talking to a horde of the peasants. He stared at them, feeling grossed out as they stared back at him with their dead eyes. It was almost like they weren't even alive. _You fucking peasants, I could be home watching the jester right now._

His father finally stopped addressing the people and pulled him from the carriage, clapping him on the shoulder with his big, beefy hands. "Come on, son. Now the real fun begins." He chuckled before leading them out of the square.

...xXx...

Feliks didn't even know where they were going, but, going by Toris's fidgeting and his obvious discomfort, it probably wasn't somewhere nice.  
Feliks didn't catch the name of the place, but it looked like a common peasant squalor, with only four windows, a thatched roof and a tiny door that was barely big enough for his father's fat ass to squeeze through.

They burst through the front door, his father shouting "I come with coin in my purse to purchase coital satisfaction." with one hand firmly on his sons shoulder, and another clutching a large bag of money.

"Oh my God, dad, you are, like, totally embarrassing me." The place was horrible and dark, with only small, almost burnt out candles on the walls lighting the place. There were loads of table, and loads of customers, and loads of women walking around the place, either talking to men or serving food. There was some one-toothed freak in the corner playing the piano and the whole placed reeked of stale sweat and grime.

"Greetings." A chubby dark lady with a massive mole on her chin sidled up to them as their father sat them down at an empty table.  
"Get some clothes fucking peasant, oh my God." Feliks said, scowling at how she only wore a thin strip of fabric across her chest and her hips.  
"Now son, don't complain. She's a whore."

She wrapped her arm around his fathers shoulders and chuckled. "He's a cute one, isn't he?"

"Keep smiling wretched wench. We shall see how comedic it is when you are peddling your downstairs to the fucking lepers."

"Oh my." Her smile vanished immediately, and before he could say anything else, Toris dragged him off to another table.

"Feliks. I told you can't talk like that."

"God, Toris, stop being such a fucking peasant."

Toris just sighed as another woman came up to their table. "Hello," She purred, running her hand along the back of Toris's chair. "Can I get you anything?" Toris flushed bright red and started stuttering. "Don't worry." Her voice sounded like she had something stuck in her throat (probably a penis.) "Take your time." She came and stood behind Feliks, setting a hand on his shoulder and causing him to flinch.  
"Ew, oh my god, gross. Don't rub your gross leper germs on your Lord." Toris paled as the woman scowled.

"We're fine for now, thank you." Toris said quietly, keeping his eyes on the table as she lifted what little skirts she had and flounced off.  
He looked around the place, frowning and realise that all these people, were actually peasants.

"Wow, fucking peasants, oh my God." He said as loudly as possible, so everyone could hear him. "This Lord sees you lazy serfs playing cards and sharing an ale. Get the fuck out this brothel and get back to harvesting or the gallows for you."

"Feliks!" Toris actually shouted at him, making Feliks grin widely. Toris never spoke up or acted out and it was hilarious seeing him apologising to the entire bar and offering to buy them all drinks like he was in the wrong.

After half an hour of apologising to everyone, Toris finally joined Feliks again at the table. His father had already disappeared with the mole woman from before.

"Toris, this is boring." He whined the moment he sat down. "Let's go."

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he lead the way back to the door. Feliks pretended he didn't see the glares coming fro everyone in the room.

_Fucking peasants, oh my God._


	2. Chapter 2

As requested on the poll, 'In the Friendzone' will be the next fanfic updated (apart from this one because I already have chapter 3 nearly completed.)

...xXx...

He'd only been seeing the 'people' for five minutes and hearing their problems, and he was already bored. His father called them 'people', but it was totally obvious by the way they dressed that they were all peasants. He could have been off doing something useful, like wooing his fiancée, or shouting at the fucking owls, or something... but no, he had to sit here listening to the peasants and their peasanty problems.

"My son has died of plague and I have no-one who can take over my farm. Please, provide me with a farmhand who can inherit it once I have passed on."

"What the fuck, what a fucking peasant. Dying of plague is so 1348."

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let him do this, my lord." Toris whispered to Feliks' father, worried.

"Don't worry, don't worry. He has learn some time." he chuckled. "Now...where did Helga go...?" He asked, licking his lips in that creepy slurpy way that let every know Helga was his most recent whore.

"Enter! Lord Kirkland!" Feliks rose a brow as a fine-dressed man entered the main hall, with a party trailing behind him. Feliks was slightly impressed at the amount of finery his people wore, and was even considering accepting whatever this Lord Kirkland wanted, until he saw his eyebrows.

"Good day, I am here to -"

"Looks like we have a peasant in disguise, oh my God, ew." He turned his head away, Kirkland's eyebrows insulting him.

"I beg your pardon!?" Lord Kirkland rose, scowling, his eyebrows coming alive and writhing on his face.

"My Lord, please!" Toris hissed at Feliks' father. "You can't afford to insult any more noblemen!"

"Hmmm...Well, let's see if my little Feliks realises this."

"Funny..." Feliks mused, wrapping his hands around his chair and staring down at Lord Kirkland as he crossed his legs. "You sound rich, but you reek of peasants."

Lord Kirkland went bright red with anger, and Toris decided to take matters into his own hand, running in there and leading Lord Kirkland off to another room to try and calm him down.

Feliks started laughing to himself. He really was hilarious.

...xXx...

Five hours later, Feliks found himself talking to one of the regular noblewoman whores that were always trying to pull him away from Catherine and get them to marry them instead, at a party his father was hosting as an excuse to sleep with another nobleman's wife.

"They were so lame. They wouldn't stop asking for money. I was all like 'Oh my God, you can't have any money. Wow, what the fuck.'"

"I don't get don't peasants just buy more money?"

"Oh my God, you are so retarded. It's obvious, isn't it?" She gave him a blank look. "They are peasants, duh. The only thing they can buy is, like, more peasants."

"Oh my God, you are so right! Who even needs food when you have peasants?"

He laughed at her. Why were girls so stupid? They couldn't even understand how peasantry worked!

"So..." She purred, laying a hand on his arm and causing him to sneer. He hated people touching him, especially fucking noblewoman whores. "What do you do in your free time?"

He looked at her, incredulous. "What do I do in my free time? What the fuck, you fucking noblewoman. Who has free time? Oh my fucking God. Go farm, okay, wow".

"Wait, I -"

"Guards! Take her away!" It was a shame, because she had actually seemed cool, even though she was a woman.

Why couldn't people just be like Catherine? Everyone he knew was such a fucking peasant. It was getting tiring arresting them all.

He caught sight of one his friends, Liz, with a group of other people, so he made his way across the floor to stand with them. They were talking about birds, and Feliks quickly smoothed his way into the conversation with the other noblemen children, like Roderich and Vash, with his hilarious story about a stupid nobleman who was probably a peasant in disguise "And some nobleman was like 'I hate birds. Especially the ones that shit on me, they're called peasant birds. Oh, and don't EVEN get me started about those owls, they are the worst peasants.' And I was like: ' Are you implying owls are birds? You fucking nobleman... Shit, learn your facts." I mean, like, owls are birds?" He burst out laughing. "In his dreams." _Fucking owls, though..._

"Feliks!" Toris called out, summoning him over to the high table, where his father sat, being hit on by yet another desperate fucking noblewoman, and his fiance, Catherine.

"Outta my way, peasants!" he shouted, laughing as the people parted for him. His father was still talking, so he had to wait before he was allowed to speak.

"He wishes he had a sweet moustache like this." His father chuckled heartily while pulling on his moustache, making it curve even more. "This moustache pulls all the fair maidens."

"Oh my God, dad. Just shut up, ew." He butted in.

"I'm only wearing four layers of undergarments." The whore rasped in his fathers ear, probably thinking she was being quiet.

"Ew, no. Father, whoreface, get the fuck out."

His father chuckled, waggling his eyebrows at Toris before vanishing off to somewhere in the castle to have fun with his whore.

"Feliks, can you please try to behave for once in your life?" Toris snapped before striding off after his father.

"Such a peasant." Feliks giggled as Toris walked off.

"You know, I don't think you should treat people like that." Catherine said, concerned.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, wench."

"Feliks, I didn't mean..."

"Catherine, I thought you were cool. Turns out you're just a fucking peasant." He turned a stormed off, a bad feeling settling in his stomach.

"Feliks!"  
He stopped and glared at her before vanishing through the doorway. "Don't you have a field that needs pitchforking?"

That was lame. Now the party was totally ruined. How could, like, she betray him? He thought she understood that peasants were just peasants.

"Urgh!" He sighed, annoyed as he stormed up to a room, passing a guard who tried to stop him on the way. "Ew, peasant, don't fucking touch me." He said as the guard grabbed his arm.

This day was just getting worse and worse. First, he found out his fiancée was a fucking peasant, and now this!

Slamming open his bedroom, he sailed past the four poster bed to the vanity table on the far wall and grabbed the bottle of wine that was sitting there. After popping it open and taking a large mouthful, he began to make his way to the balcony so he could survey the land where all the peasants still worked in the evening light.

"Feliks! I love you!" Catherine's voice suddenly burst out from behind him. Couldn't he get a minutes peace?

"Oh my God, why would a fucking peasant like yourself come within range of a nobleman like me? Get the fuck out of my room and back to your fields and leper infested offspring. Like, wow." He said, turning and hoping she had gone.

When he had finally got out onto the balcony, the sight he saw made him laugh.

Instead of fields and forest, all he could see were burning torches and pitchforks of an army of peasants making their way towards the castle.  
_This should be fun._ He thought as he took another gulp from the bottle, looking back at them and laughing.

_Fucking peasants, oh my God._


End file.
